Free Fall
by RandomBliss
Summary: Abigail Townsend, the daughter of Parker Townsend and Christina Reese, has concentrated on eventing to please her father. What happens when she begins to take an interest in racing, and meets a very special horse in the process?
1. Chapter 1

The fog hung lazily over the arena as Abigail Townsend schooled her black gelding, Wizard. Her father, Parker Townsend and owner of Windwood Farm, the family's 3-day eventing farm, watched her critically.

"Slow down, Abby!" He shouted, turning the whip he held over in his hands. "We're jumping, not on a racetrack!"

Abigail shot her father an annoyed look, bringing Wizard back to a less reckless canter as she gathered him for a purple oxer. She went into 2-point, squeezed her legs, and he flew over. Wizard tossed his head as soon as they landed, fighting her hold on the reins.

"I'd love to let you run, boy." She murmured, so her father couldn't hear. "I wish I could go with mom to work the horses at Whitebrook instead."

"Good job today," Parker said as she rode up on the restless horse, "Remember that you can't just take off on a course whenever it suits your fancy. You want to go fast, but you have to keep a pace and think about what you're doing." He pat Wizard on the neck, and nodded at her.

"Cool him out- no jumping on him bareback and galloping off across the pasture. Ok?" His gray eyes were stern. Abigail's own eyes were closer to blue, and she stared back at him.

"Fine." She hopped off his back, opening the gate of the outdoor arena after running up the stirrups and loosening the girth.

Abigail led her horse out, leading him to closest of the 3 large gray barns that were on the property. He snorted appreciatively as slipped the tack off his sweating body, and bathed him. The heat of the summer day hadn't hit yet, as sun was barely peeking through the trees.

"Have a good ride, Abs?" One of the young grooms, Ben, asked as he led a well-built Hanoverian in a stall. "Wizard's looking good. Your father is excited for you guys." He grinned at her, running a hand through the brown hair that was a little too long, and getting in his eyes.

"Yeah, I guess I'm sort of excited. I wish he wasn't so set on me staying away from Grandfather and not getting too involved with racing."

"Really? And Brad Townsend hasn't done anything about it? He doesn't want to have someone to pass the family farm down to?"

"Hey, I didn't say he hasn't tried." She let her blonde curls down from a sweaty ponytail, shaking them out and pulling them up again. "Dad refuses every time, regardless of whether I'm interested or not."

"Are you?"

"Yeah! I don't agree with some of the stuff Grandfather has done, but I'm more interested in racing. Mom has brought me to a ton of races and let me exercise some. I really want to get deeper, and with both grandparent's owning some of the most successful farms in Kentucky it's almost impossible not to." She shook her head, leading Wizard out to his paddock.

"I told you Dad, I don't want her getting all caught up in Townsend Acres." Abigail froze as she heard her father's voice, tight as a coiled spring, from his office. He paused, presumably listening to Brad Townsend on the other line. "Look, you don't need Abigail to take over the farm one day. I've got Windwood for her already. Just sell Townsend Acres when you can't take it anymore." He paused again. "No, Dad, that's not nessasary. I'm sure she-" He cursed and slammed the phone down, which Abigail could only take to mean her Grandfather had hung up on her father. She heard him sigh, and then she scurried away to take care of Wizard's tack before he could see her listening in.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the day passed slowly. It was little over halfway through the summer, and the humidity somehow managed to permeate the barns, despite the fans that desperately tried to prevent it.

By the next morning, Abigail could hardly get the phone call off her mind. Every time she thought of it, she felt a rush of excitement. Grandfather had wanted _her_ to take over one day? The idea was intimidating, but she didn't want to be resigned to Windwood. Her father's farm was beautiful and she loved all the horses on it, but she didn't think she wanted to own it one day.

"Morning, Abs. Will you take Soldier out and school him over a few jumps? He has a lesson this afternoon, and he's been acting up."

"Sure, Dad." She was already clad in tan breeches and t-shirt bearing the logo of a local tack shop, ready to ride.

She went into the tack room, inhaling deeply. The smell of leather filled the room. She went and picked up Soldier's tack, then walked to his stall.

"Hey, boy." She cooed to the muddy bay. He had a slightly large head then preferred and was certainly not the prettiest horse, but he had powerful hindquarters and was one of the most intelligent school horses they owned. She slid the well-oiled saddle onto his back, buckled the girth, and put on his bridle. Soon she was mounted on his back, walking him out around the empty arena. Abigail urged him into a trot for a few circuits, and then into a canter. She noticed a figure at the rail, but glanced and realized it was her father. Ignoring him, she took Soldier over a few jumps. At the first one he balked, throwing a buck. She let him settle down and aimed him toward it again, giving him a firm squeeze with her legs as he finally leapt over it.

"Good boy." She murmured, taking him over it once more.

"Bravo, bravo." The figure at the rail clapped, and Abigail at once realized it was not her father. She rode the horse over, realizing it was her grandfather. He looked a lot like her father, their handsome features strikingly similar, but his dark hair was streaked with gray, and he wore pressed khakis, an expensive looking button down shirt, and a black windbreaker.

"Grandfather," she said with surprise, "I didn't know you were visiting us this morning." She dismounted the horse, running up his stirrups and loosening his girth.

"Do I need to call ahead to visit my granddaughter?" He asked a little haughtily, stepping forward to give her a weak attempt at a hug. "Besides, I didn't come to see your parents. I came to see you." He smiled at her, doing a decent job at masking his disdain for the unimpressive horse.

"Why?" She felt burning excitement. What would he suggest?

He wasted no time. "I'd like you to take a look at the other side of horses. Racing. I know your mother and grandmother have showed you to some of that, but I'd like you to come see what a real operation looks like. Would you like to come to Townsend Acres for a few days, and see what it's like to own and live on a horse racing farm? To wake up every morning, and go see the magnificent animals on the track? To see a horse you trained win a race? To ride these powerful animals? Why, you're 16, aren't you? When your grandmother was your age, she was racing!"

Abigail felt a sting of defensiveness at his attack on her grandmother's farm, but ignored it. A few days at Townsend Acres seeing what a racing farm was all about! She could get to know the horses, and see if racing truly was where her heart was.

Brad interrupted her train of thought. "Of course, you'll have to convince your father. His dreams are for you to take over Windwood, but how do you know that's really what you want to do?" It was as if he had read her mind.

"I'll go talk to him right now, Grandfather! Will you come with me?"

He hesitated. "I think it would be best if you talked to him by yourself, first. I'll take, um-" He gestured to Soldier, and took the reins.

"Soldier. Thanks, Grandfather! I'll go find him right now!" She jogged to her father's office, bursting in.

"Dad!"

He looked up, eyes wide with alarm. "What's wrong?" He said immediately, half-standing from his desk.

"Nothing. Sit back down." He sat, and she sat in the leather chair across from him. "Grandfather has come and asked me if I want to stay with him a few days. At Townsend Acres, to work with racehorses."

Parker scowled. "Why don't you go with your mother and grandmother, then? And besides, what about Windwood and eventing? Wizard won't school himself, and isn't there a show in a few weeks?"

"Dad… Grandfather _invited _me. I don't see why I shouldn't accept. Anyway, Wizard will be fine for a few days. If you think he needs some work, get an advanced student to take him out or something. And we're ready for the show. Please?" She widened her eyes pitifully.

He sighed. "Bring your grandfather in here. I'd like to talk to him. Alone."

Abigail nodded, finding her grandfather scrutinizing a groom untacking Soldier. "Grandfather! My dad wants to talk to you. Please convince him."

"I will, don't worry." He smiled at her, then strode off to Parker's office.

Abigail trailed behind, pacing outside for a few minutes. She couldn't hear any shouting, so it must be going well. Unless her father was outright ignoring her grandfather. She fidgeted nervously for a few more moments before the door open.

"Pack your bags." Brad Townsend grinned. "You're coming to spend a few days at Townsend Acres."


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you sure you want to go?" Christina Townsend frowned as her daughter folded a pair of breeches and put them in her suitcase.

"Of course, Mom." She smiled up at her slim mother. "It's only for a few days. And I don't see Grandfather that often."

"Why don't you go stay with Ash, then?" She asked, referring to the name Ashleigh had chosen for her granddaughter to call her. She had claimed 'grandma' made her sound too old.

"Grandfather invited me." She said stubbornly. "Come on Mom, put aside your prejudice for a moment, please?"

Christina sighed. "I guess you're right. I'll let you pack." She stood, striding out.

Abigail quickly finished packing, zipping her suitcase up and putting it by the door.

"Heard you were going to Grandfather's farm." Her older brother, Will, stood at the door. His hair, brown and cut short, was untidy. He wore jeans, a t-shirt with some band on it, and black converse.

"Yeah, I am." She threw herself on her bed, tucking her arms behind her head. "Why?"

"Excited?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. I know you love three day eventing, but I don't know if I like it enough to do it forever. I still can't understand why you already flat-out refused to take over the farm."

Will's handsome face, his features nearly a mirror of his father, frowned. "I already told you and him, I'm not going to stay in Kentucky. I want to go to England and start a farm. He trained there. He understands."

"That puts a lot of pressure on me." She said, half bitterly.

"No one's making you take over the farm." He crossed his arms.

"We both know Dad expects it."

"I guess. When are you going over to Townsend Acres?"

"I guess I'll head out in a few minutes. I'd like to get there before it gets dark."

"See you in a few days." He nodded to her, walking off probably to see his Dutch Warmblood, Tex.

"Hey Mom, I think I'm going to head out." She called into the kitchen where her mother was preparing dinner.

"I'll see you in a few days, then." She gave her daughter a hug. "Be good, and go say goodbye to your father. He's making sure a yearling isn't lame by the arena."

"Ok. I'll call you!" She waved as she walked out the door, twirling the keys to her modest car absentmindedly around her finger.

She found her father watching a chestnut yearling trot in a circle.

"Ok… stop him. I think he's lame."

"Bye Dad!" She interrupted him with a hug.

"Oh, leaving so soon?" Parker smiled. "I'll see you soon."

"Ok. Bye!"

Abigail got in her car and drove to Townsend Acres. She had been to the farm a few times before, but not for a few years. She pulled in the driveway, stopping at security.

"Name?" The doleful man asked boredly.

"Abigail Townsend." She said clearly, giving him a smile.

"Oh, of course. Go right in." He lifted the security gate and waved her in.

She drove, gasping as the farm burst into view. It was more beautiful than she could have remembered. Tall, gray stone barns were arranged neatly among two ovals, rolling pastures, and medical center, the mansion her Grandparents lived in, apartments for the staff, and two guest cottages. She parked by the mansion, getting her things out and ringing the doorbell.

"Abigail! You came!" Lavinia pulled her into a crushing hug.

"Uh, yes. Hi Grandmother." She had never particularly liked her grandmother, though she had gotten her blonde hair from her. Now Lavinia's hair was a bottle blond, with a thousand dollar haircut.

"Brad is down at the barns. He's so excited to show you around! I'm sure you'll be ready to take over in no time!" Abigail frowned slightly at the blatant assumption, but Lavinia continued anyway. "I'll get someone to take your bags up for you, and you go ahead down, hmm?" She smiled, revealing dazzlingly white teeth.

"Of course Grandmother. I'll see you at dinner tonight?" She said politely, making a move for the door.

"Yes, darling. So nice to see you!"

Abigail gave a somewhat sarcastic smile and walked out. She went into the first barn, where powerful stallions paced their stalls. Dark wood adorned the outsides of the stalls, and gold nameplates labeled each horse.

"Celtic Mist." She murmured, leaning on the door. The horse was well over 20 years old, and his natural gray coloring was made grayer with age. He snorted as she walked over, giving her a gentle nudge with his nose.

"Lucky you picked a nice stallion to visit with." A young woman in her early 20's walked over, looking annoyed. "How did you get in here, eh? Who are you?" She narrowed her eyes. "These are expensive horses."

"Excuse me?" Abigail scowled.

"Look kid, this is private-"

"Sharon!" A sharp voice sounded from behind Abigail. She spun to find Brad behind her, eyes smoldering.

"Good evening, Mr. Townsend. I was just about to take care of this intruder. I didn't mean to bother you."

"This intruder happens to be my granddaughter. I suggest you treat her with all the respect I expect from you."

Sharon's mouth fell open. "I-I'm terribly sorry Miss Townsend. It won't happen again."

"It's ok." Abigail tried to smile.

"See that it doesn't." Her grandfather gave Sharon a cold look, then turned to Abigail. "Now, I'd expect you'd like to meet some of our horses in training, hmm?"


	4. Chapter 4

"This is Townsend Ambition." Brad walked up to a gray horse, giving him a pat on his muscled shoulder. "Out of Gratis, who is at Tall Oaks." He mumbled something that Abigail was pretty sure was "And should have been ours", but she pretended she didn't hear.

The colt was tall, she estimated over 16 hands, possibly 17. He was a little gangly, still with some filling out to do, but overall well built. He turned his head in Abigail's direction, ears pricked and nose flared. The groom tensed, in case he was to try something dangerous. Instead, he nudged her shoulder. Abigail laughed, rubbing his nose.

"Looks like he likes you. I'd like you to start exercise riding him tomorrow. He's a rocket, but it's not as if you've never ridden a horse before. Are you up to it?."

"Of course, Grandfather. Can we see some of the other horses?"

"Certainly. Valerie, take him to his paddock now." The groom nodded and led the large horse off.

"Over here is Townsend Dream. We aren't expected a great amount from her, but she should turn out as a decent stakes horse."

The bay filly stuck her head over the door. She was more compactly built, with a dainty face. She nuzzled Abigail as she stroked her nose.

"You'll ride her tomorrow too, first. She's quick, but she won't try anything." He clearly expected her to become a regular exercise rider while she was there.

Abigail nodded, excitement growing in the pit of her stomach. Brad led her around the barn, showing her more sleek thoroughbreds in training. Finally he went over to a more private stall, which had previously had the top portion of the door shut. "This is a horse you need to see as a whole. He's our best prospect this year." He grabbed a leather halter and lead off a hook by the door. "I'll lead him out."

She was curious as he disappeared inside the stall. She heard a few soothing words and a snort, and then the door swung open and he lead the horse out.

She could feel her eyes widen as the magnificent colt was led out. He was pure black, save for a snip that slashed across his nose. He had huge, round eyes that rolled as he took in Abigail, and ears that swiveled to hear everything. His conformation was perfect, with long, sturdy legs, a nicely sloping shoulder, a strong short back, and hindquarters packed with muscle. He switched his long black tail, and snorted.

"This," Brad said proudly, "is Free Fall."

"He's beautiful." Abigail stepped forward slowly, letting him sniff her palm. He snapped at it.

"Careful, he can have a mean streak." Brad jerked on the lead shank to reprimand him for biting. "He should, considering his dam is Perfect Image."

"Wow." Now she knew where he got his coloring. "Who's his sire?"

"Wonder's Star." He sounded a little angry about it. "We would have preferred one of his half-siblings, such as Wonder's Pride or Champion, but I'm sure you remember Pride's death. And I don't believe you spent much time around Champion, though he died not long ago. It was.... required that we use Wonder's Star."

Abigail had known her mother's prize horse since birth, and knew he was bred to expensive mares regularly. Unfortunately, Free Fall hadn't seemed to have inherited Star's sweet temperament.

"He looks like he'll burn up the track." She avoided his head and stroked his shoulder. He skittered to the side, stomping indignantly.

"He is excellent, isn't he?" He led the restless horse around in a circle to calm him down a little. "He runs his maiden in a few weeks. You should come."

Brad led the horse back in his stall. "Now, what do you say we go get some dinner? I'm sure the cook has it ready on the table, and your grandmother is probably wondering where we are." He put a gentle hand on her shoulder and led her up to the house.

"Abby!" Lavinia gushed again when they walked in the dining room. She kissed her husband's cheek when he bent down beside her. "How were the horses?"

"Excellent." Brad replied, though the question was clearly directed at Abigail. Lavinia pretended that was what she had intended.

"And Free Fall, how is he looking?"

"Perfect. The only thing that would have made him better is if he had Townsend Prince bloodlines in him."

Lavinia laid a sympathetic hand on his arm. "Come now, there was nothing you could do. He has impressive bloodlines anyway, though I can't say I wouldn't rather have the Prince as his grandsire than Ashleigh's Wonder as his granddam." Her face twisted into disgust as she said Wonder's name.

Abigail finally asked the question that had been burning on her tongue. "How did you get another breeding right to Image?" She remembered her mother's cousin, Melanie, telling her about her beloved horse Perfect Image, and how she had broken down on the racetrack. She remembered her saying Brad had demanded a share of Image's first foal in return for the use of his medical facilities, but had suddenly withdrawn the condition. How had he reinstated the ownership of a foal, especially now that Tall Oaks owned him?

"I pulled a few strings. Ben al-Rihani wasn't enthusiastic about giving away a foal right, but he was curious to see what Perfect Image and Wonder's Star would produce. It took generous terms on my part- a promise of some breeding rights to the foal, eventually, and some breeding rights to my current horses that were otherwise booked up. Naturally he could have bred the mare himself, but I wanted the foal, and he knew I could take care of it and could tell I would stop at nothing to get it. And now I have him." Brad seemed quite pleased with himself. "I'd have preferred to have the mare for myself, but I knew that wouldn't happen. Townsend Acres hasn't seen an amazing filly since Ashleigh's Wonder, and she wasn't even completely ours." He scowled.

"Why didn't you just breed her to Celtic Mist?" Abigail frowned. It was clear her grandfather held contempt for her maternal grandmother and her horses, so why would he choose Wonder's Star over his own stallion?

"Ah, yes. Remember I said it was necessary for me to breed her to Wonder's Star? Well, that was another term of Mr. al-Rihani. He agreed to give me the foal, but only if it was by Wonder's Star. Far too picky of a man." Brad's lip curled back in distaste.

"Oh." Abigail considered this. She hadn't realized how manipulative one had to be in the racing world to get the next best horse.

"Anyway, I have Free Fall and Ambition. When you take over the farm, I expect you to get that winning filly. We need to improve our broodmare stock." With that, he picked up his fork as a white-clad cook came in carrying plates, and was silent.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm sorry I took so long to post another chapter, but I've been really busy with school and such I just haven't had an extended period to sit down and write! As always, I appreciate your reviews and encourage you to let me know if there's something you would like to see happen or a character you would like me to bring in from the original series.

Thanks for reading!

"Ok, since this is your first workout, I'll go easy." A man with a small mouth and a nose that looked as if it had been broken a few times held the head of Townsend Dream. His name tag read "James Holland, Head Trainer" in crisp black ink, and his green polo was emblazoned with the Townsend Acres logo in gold. She figured Ralph Dunkirk, whom she had heard was the head trainer, had finally gotten fired. Her father, who had warned her about him, would be pleased.

"Jog her for a lap and let her out into a light gallop for 2 furlongs. Don't push her." He gave her a leg up into the small saddle.

For a moment, Abigail shifted uncomfortably. The saddle was far smaller than the ones she was used to, and the stirrups were way too short. She was glad Dream didn't spook as she tried to get acquainted with the strange saddle.

"Good thing he put her on the easy horse first." She heard an exercise rider tell a groom as he vaulted onto a prancing colt easily. She felt her cheeks flush bright red, and decided to ignore the comment. She would show him.

"Just a jog at first!" Holland reminded her, turning to feel the legs of a chestnut filly someone had led over. She stood in the short stirrups, gathering the reins so she had a gentle contact with the filly's mouth. Dream had a smooth stride, and she jogged easily around the loop as Abigail adjusted to the new position in the saddle. As soon as she passed in front of the opening that she had entered the track through, she leaned forward, urging Dream into a canter and then a gallop. She felt like she was moving in slow motion, the gallop was so easygoing. Even for Dream, this was slow. She needed some speed. She leaned forward, urging the horse forward with her voice. Before she knew it she had gone almost 3 furlongs, faster than instructed.

"Stop right there, Miss Townsend!" Holland's rough voice finally reached her ears. She pulled the excited Dream back to a brisk walk, and returned to the opening. "I'm not sure what you were-"

"Abigail! Excellent work out there. I was just thinking Holland was holding her back too much." She looked down into Brad's smiling face, and hopped off the filly.

"But-" Holland looked furious. His mouth had somehow been pinched smaller.

Brad's eyes narrowed. "Do you have a problem with my granddaughter?"

"Uh- Of course not." Holland broke, looking down at the ground. Abigail bit her lip worriedly. She hoped the staff didn't hate her, especially since she had just gotten there.

"Now, where's Ambition?" He looked around for the gray colt.

"Here, sir." A groom led the tacked horse to him. Ambition tossed his head, stomping the ground with a snort.

"Up you go." Before Abigail realized what was happening, she was on the tall horse's back. She knew she had to get settled more firmly in the saddle if she was to stay on, and immediately got her feet in the stirrups and her seat secure.

"I was a 4 furlong breeze out of him. Got it?" Holland gave her a hard look, shaking his clipboard at her.

Abigail nodded, determined to follow his instructions to the letter. She jogged Ambition until she saw Holland's nod, and then leaned forward, urging the horse into a gallop. The wind whipped her face and stung her eyes, but urged him forward anyway, regretfully pulling him up as they reached four furlongs.

"What was the time?" Abigail heard Brad ask Holland as she rode the large horse out.

"46 seconds. Not bad." Brad nodded at him, taking the horse by the bridle.

"Good job, Abigail. I have a few more horses I'd like you to ride today." She nodded as she hopped off of Ambition.

She rode a few more horses, but it was obvious none of them were of the same quality as Ambition. Finally, the steady trickle of people coming out with sleek, tacked thoroughbreds slowed, and the horse Abigail was most excited to see on the track was led out. Free Fall pranced out of the barn, firmly held onto by one of the larger grooms. Beside him, his lithe exercise rider was dwarfed.

"Ok, since he runs his maiden soon, I'd like to get a general idea of his speed." He proceeded to instruct the exercise rider on the workout, but Abigail wasn't listening. Instead, she gazed at Free Fall. The sun striking his silky coat revealed dapples she hadn't seen earlier in the dimmer light of the barn, and she admired them for a moment. He had large, intelligent eyes that took in everything with a sort of intensity she hadn't seen very often in horses. His delicate nose, with the white slash of a snip, was flared as he stomped the ground impatiently with a powerful hind leg.

Suddenly the exercise rider was up on his back, gathering the reins quickly as Free Fall skittered to the side.

"Feisty as ever, eh?" The rider gave a grim smile, guiding the horse out onto the track.

Abigail could feel her Grandfather's presence beside her, intently watching the horse do a warm-up jog around the track. "Keep him in hand, don't let him fight you." She could hear him muttering, eyes fixed on the colt.

Suddenly, Free Fall turned from a bundle of pent-up energy into a blur as he shot forward into what seemed like an impossibly fast gallop. She could hear his steady snorts of exertion as he flew by them, and the steady pounding of his hooves. Suddenly his work was done, and the rider pulled him up, cheeks red from the ride.

"How'd we do?" He hopped off the black colt, yanking off his helmet.

Holland was smiling, "I think we have a winner."


End file.
